distracted (paying attention)

Spring draws me outdoors and thankfully, out of my self.  More precisely, the activities of spring distract me from habitual pursuits of navel-gazing. 

 I am hopeful for my new garden boxes.  This past weekend we filled them with tomato and pepper plants, a Japanese eggplant and lots of herbs: cilantro, basil, sage, rosemary, chive and prairie onion.  I've also filled pots with mint, lemon balm, and thyme.  Each year I marvel at my vast collection of terracotta pots and slowly fill them with geraniums in as many colors as I can find.  It is my garden center scavenger hunt.

Meanwhile, Cowgirl and I stay busy watching the progress of the two robins' nests situation on the drainpipe and outdoor lights of our neighbor's house.  (We have a nest of grackles tucked way up high under one of our roof lines.) 

 These baby birds keep us on our toes.

In recent months, I've become aware of the necessity of carrying my new(ish) reading glasses with me ... seems to be a trend towards smaller print these days.  A rare excursion to buy new shorts (I tend towards mail order ... never have to leave my house!) found me in a fitting room wondering about the poor quality of modern lighting (candlelight being much more soothing and energy efficient, don't you think?) ... those lumpy masses in the mirror couldn't be my legs?

It seems my eyes prefer spring-time sights.  Even my painting seems to be youth-oriented:

My handsome boy as he appears to me.  I'm certain I appear equally vibrant and bright-eyed to him.  

It isn't the dog days of summer just yet, but with school out (!) it is all I can do to keep tap dancing through my days.  Squeezing in time to write, paint, sew, and garden ...

while keeping one Cowgirl busy will either prove to be my secret youth serum or what brings me to my knees. 

Either way, I will have good company. 

(Moose has started therapy for low thyroid function and has moments of perkiness!  There is still some issue with his bloodwork,  but x-rays did not reveal anything "too awful" according to our Vet who is mildly concerned.  Of course, I tend towards the anxious end of the spectrum, but am following my boy's lead and attempting to chillax.)